


What the "X" stands for

by Wild_Imagination



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Dark Phoenix
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik Stands Up For Charles, Erik is bitter and so is the author, M/M, Mutant Husbands, Poor Charles, Protective Erik, Sassy Erik, X-Men: Dark Phoenix (Movie) Spoilers, not really a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:55:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wild_Imagination/pseuds/Wild_Imagination
Summary: McCoy growled. He didn’t look that menacing in his plaid pyjamas, with tufts of blue hair popping out from between the buttons. “How did you get in here?”Erik arched an eyebrow. “How did I get where? In the deserted park of a school in the middle of nowhere, blocked only by a very metallic gate?” He deadpanned. “Go figure.”“Cut the bullshit,” McCoy snapped, then looked back at the school as if scared that the lights in the kids’ rooms may turn on. He lowered his voice. “And tell me what you want.”“To redecorate.” Erik closed his fist and something very big and very heavy crashed on the ground right in front of them.The fall stirred up a cloud of dust and dirt.





	What the "X" stands for

Erik twisted his hand and the metal rattled.   
He waited. Nothing happened.

He rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers some more.   
The metal screeched loudly and swung in the air.   
He was about to cut it in two halves and clang them against each other when something big and blue appeared in his line of vision. 

“What are you doing here?”   
Erik clasped his free hand in front of his mouth. “Oh, my!” He exclaimed, perfectly embarrassed. “I really didn’t want to wake you up, Hank!”   
McCoy growled. He didn’t look  _ that  _ menacing in his plaid pyjamas, with tufts of blue hair popping out from between the buttons. “How did you get in here?”

Erik arched an eyebrow. “How did I get where? In the deserted park of a school in the middle of nowhere, blocked only by a very metallic gate?” He deadpanned. “Go figure.”   
“Cut the bullshit,” McCoy snapped, then looked back at the school as if scared that the lights in the kids’ rooms may turn on. He lowered his voice. “And tell me what you want.”   
“To redecorate.” Erik closed his fist and something very big and very heavy crashed on the ground right in front of them. The fall stirred up a cloud of dust and dirt. 

McCoy jumped three feet in the air, and the look of astonishment was clear even on his inhuman features. “What the fuck-”   
“McCoy,” reprimanded Erik, brows furrowed. “You’re the headmaster of this school. Please check your language.”

McCoy looked at the ten-metre pile of warped metal that stood in the middle of the driveway, then at Erik, then again at the metal. He seemed completely lost and angrier by the minute. “Are those  _ cars _ ?”   
“They certainly were,” said Erik. “But don’t worry, I left your phone number for the owners to find, so they’ll know who to call to be refunded. To think that Charles says I don’t care for humans.”   
McCoy stuck his hands in the fur atop his head and gaped. It took him several tries to spit out a sentence. “Are you out of your mind?”

Erik hummed happily and started shaping his favourite material. It adjusted dutifully to the movements of his hands, bump by bump, and he knew in a few minutes he would be proud of his work.   

That’s when McCoy retrieved his faculties.    
He growled ferally and made to strike, claws glinting in the night air; Erik rolled his eyes and wobbled his index finger. A piece of car door flew towards McCoy and wrapped tightly around him. The man squirmed and writhed in the creaking metal, then stopped when he almost fell on his face. He snarled in frustration. “Why are you doing this?”

Erik stopped his show of cultured craftsmanship, his hands still in the air. His jaw clenched. “I was in my home, minding my own business, when I heard something extremely funny on the radio,” he said. But he didn’t look amused at all. “The journalist was talking about a certain ‘Grey’s school for gifted youngsters’. I thought it was a mistake, but then I saw the look on Charles’ face.”   

He turned his head and stared at McCoy right in the eye. The man felt his fur stand up and took a self-preserving step back. “That’s not really a look I want to see on Charles’ face again. You understand.”

McCoy scoffed. “Charles left, and it was the first good thing he has done in-”

The shapeless metal in front of him shrieked in pain. Several gashes opened on its surface just as Erik growled. “Of course he left. You accused him of being a threat to the children,  _ his  _ children.”

“He  _ was _ !” McCoy exclaimed, stepping forward. “Look what he did to Jean, and to…” He lowered his head and his voice broke. “To Raven. He has gone too far. Throwing us in increasingly dangerous missions just for his ego and his rich fans.”    
McCoy spat on the ground. 

Erik’s eyes darkened. He turned back to his work and started to polish the metal with slow, calculated motions of his palms. “What happened to them wasn’t Charles’ fault and you know that. He did what he thought was best for Jean. It was invasive, and condescending, but I wonder what I… What  _ anyone _ would have done in his place. She was eight years old, for the love of…” He paused and clenched his fists. He had to take a deep breath before continuing. “As for the rest, I can’t believe I have to point that out, but you are all adults, and you chose to be where you were, doing what you did. Mystique  _ chose  _ to be there for Jean, and Charles tried to help her in that decision.”

McCoy laughed mirthlessly. “And here I thought you were actually on my side, that one time. Was your ‘there’s always a speech and nobody cares’ just a bluff, then?”

“No,” said Erik seriously. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual, even in the darkness. “Charles needs someone to slap him back into reality, every once in a while. He spends too much time in his own head and there he’s always right. But he was alone, making impossible decisions, carrying the weight of a tremulous alliance all by himself. You didn’t question his choices but condemned him when you didn’t like their consequences. He gave all of us countless chances, but was thrown away at his first misstep.”

He smiled bitterly, then, surprised to be reminded of a stupid comment he had delivered all those years ago about hardships. He looked at the school, and saw the mansion, the  _ home _ it had been thirty years prior. “And I wouldn’t be so sure about his appreciation for rich fans; he just needed their money to keep the school going. Don’t forget that he can read their minds, and to humans we will always be monsters, even if they call us superheroes.”  

They were quiet for a few minutes. Erik pretended not to notice the sniffling sounds coming from McCoy, and let the metal moan for the last time. It shimmered against the night, clear and smooth. 

McCoy looked at the finished work and sighed heavily, tired and defeated. “Is that to mock me?”

Erik snorted. “Just a bit.” He made sure to jab the two far ends of the structure deep enough in the ground to keep the whole thing standing. “It is mainly to remind Charles that when we were lost, he gave us a home, and when we were alone, he gave us a family.” He smiled up at the massive  _ X _ decorating the driveway. Now there was no way but through it to get to the school. “That’s his legacy, and that’s what the X stands for.”    

 

***

Erik flew into the bedroom right through the open balcony and used the remnants of his strength to land silently on the floor. 

Charles was asleep in their bed, left hand outstretched towards the empty space next to him.  

Erik felt something clog the base of his throat and almost whimpered. 

He took off his shoes and circled the bed to lie down on the cover, head on the pillow. His joints sighed and finally relaxed.

It took only a few moments for Charles’ eyelids to flutter open. His blue, blue eyes focused on Erik, and he smiled. “Ehi,” he whispered. His fingers moved on the mattress and slid through Erik’s.                           
Erik linked their hands and stroked his knuckles. “Ehi.”    
“How was your trip?”   
“Why don’t you see it for yourself?”   
Charles hid his trembling smile in the pillow and did just that, eyes closed in concentration. Little wrinkles appeared on his temple, and Erik felt the irrational urge to kiss them.  

He could pinpoint the exact moment Charles saw what had happened at the mansion, because his hand trembled. Erik tightened his grip. 

Charles opened his eyes wide. They were lucid, and his eyelashes already wet. He moved his lips wordlessly, then just choked: “Erik.” 

Erik shifted forward and held Charles against his chest. He felt the collar of his shirt being twisted by strong fingers, and warm breath caressing the skin of his neck. “You will always be their Professor, Charles.”    

**Author's Note:**

> I'm well aware Charles isn't at his best in DP, and he screws up.  
> But I also think that the ending was unfair to his character and to his legacy, so I wanted to soften it, just a bit. Erik helped.


End file.
